Newfound Feelings
by MACBernal
Summary: After Tommy's funeral, Felicity and Oliver spend some time together and maybe Oliver starts to realize that there's more than just friendship brewing between him and his IT girl. [Completed]


**A/N: Well hasn't it been awhile? I'm sorry for the lack of Olicity stories but the muse has been asleep and refuses to come out for anything less than greatness. But I'm sitting on my couch, listening to my favorite music, and there's nothing on TV no matter how many times I flip through the channels so I'm shaking the muse awake and hopefully something productive will be the result. I'm a bit on edge with this one so let me know what you think because I don't know if I love it or not. Anyway I hope you enjoy **Newfound Feelings.

* * *

Oliver never liked funerals. He hadn't been to very many but still, who really liked them anyway? Everything was cast in a shade of gray and it was always raining, with today being no exception. People in crisp black suits or tailored dresses stood huddled together under their matching black umbrellas as Tommy's casket was lowered into the rain soaked ground. Oliver watched numbly and couldn't bring himself to move, even when the service was over. He had stood there, his expensive Armani suit soaked through, as people had shuffled past him, mumbling their condolences before completely disappearing into their uniform town cars. The only people left besides Oliver was Laurel and Diggle.

And Felicity of course.

She had stood towards the back, underneath her own black umbrella (the only non colorful thing she owned besides the black dress she was wearing) and watched the service from afar. She saw how much pain Oliver was in and she wanted more than anything to go and console him but she didn't have enough courage to. In playboy Oliver Queen's world, he doesn't know Felicity. She's the one who set up his internet. That's it.

Their friendship didn't exist.

But when she finally saw Laurel turn to head for her car, her eyes met Diggle's and he nodded, encouraging her to go to him. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before moving slowly to the broken man standing a few feet away. As she neared him, she suddenly realized that maybe he didn't want to see her. She hadn't known Tommy and maybe it wasn't her place to come. She stopped, just a mere foot away, and bit her lip. What should she do? Stand next to him? Touch his shoulder to let him known she was there for him? Or should she make a bee line for her mini and leave him here in his silent sadness? She decided in an instant and moved towards him again, carefully slipping her small hand into his large, calloused one. She didn't feel him tense up, just a simple squeeze to her own hand. She shifted slightly so that her umbrella came up over both their heads, shielding them from the quickening rain. They stood there, hands entwined, and Diggle watched from a distance, glad that Oliver had Felicity up there with him.

* * *

The rain was hitting the window pane hard as Oliver sat at Felicity's kitchen table, watching her move around as she pulled wine glasses from the top shelf. They had eaten at Big Belly Burger only hours before but for some reason, he had been hungry when they came back to Felicity's apartment. He watched her move around, so at ease, and he envied her. He had been on edge ever since the Glades had collapsed around him. He continued to stare at her until he remembered the funeral.

"Why did you stay all the way in the back?"

Felicity stopped moving around her kitchen and turned to face Oliver.

"You knew I was there?"

He smiled slightly into his mug of now lukewarm tea.

"Of course I did. I would've pulled you up with me but I didn't know if you'd be comfortable or not."

She turned back to face the Chinese take out on her counter.

"I would've come up for you."

Oliver's head snapped up and he was afraid he misunderstood. She had merely whispered so couldn't be sure.

"What?"

She sighed.

"Nothing. Never mind."

Oliver stared at her back as she continued moving, pulling the take out boxes from the bag. He hadn't misunderstood. She said she would've come up. For him.

"But why?"

Felicity scoffed, placing both hands down on either side of the food before turning to stare at Oliver, disbelief plastered all over her face.

"You didn't _seriously_ just ask me that Oliver Queen."

He blinked at her and she rolled her eyes.

"_Now_? Even after all the time we've spent together, you're asking me why I would've gone up with you? Oliver you're my friend for Christ's sake! And you just lost one of yours! I will always be here to help you, even when you don't want me to. I care about you and if that isn't obvious than I must've been doing something wrong. Or you're just utterly oblivious to the way I feel about you. I mean _seriously_!"

She threw her hands up and stalked away, completely leaving the food and a stunned Oliver back in the kitchen. It took him seconds to process everything she said before he pushed away from the table and went in search for her. It didn't take long, her apartment wasn't that big, before he found her on her fire escape, just outside her bedroom window. He stopped just short of her door, watching her free hair blew slightly in the breeze. She had hugged her knees to her chest and was leaning against the railing.

_**I care about you and if that isn't obvious than I must've been doing something wrong. Or you're just utterly oblivious to the way I feel about you.**_

Her words rang in his ears and his chest suddenly tightened. What was he supposed to say to that? He knew Felicity was attracted to him and on some level; he was attracted to her too.

**Whoa.**

He was attracted to Felicity?

He frowned in spite of himself and brought his eyes back up to Felicity's huddled form. She was beautiful, he knew that much. She was kind and insanely smart and incredibly brave. Her rambling always seemed to ground him and her geekiness was refreshing. She was unlike any other woman he had ever known. And it was one of the things he truly did love about Felicity Smoak.

But Laurel.

What about Laurel?

He hadn't spoken to her since the day Tommy died. He didn't know what he would say. His best friend was dead and he had loved Laurel more than he ever had. Even now, looking back on the night they had spent together, he realized that he still doesn't love Laurel the way Tommy did. And maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd never again feel towards Laurel what he now feels for…

Felicity.

His head snaps up and he realizes he perched himself on the edge of Felicity's bed, everything suddenly making sense.

Felicity Smoak.

She hadn't been what he was expecting. She came into his life with her glasses and blonde ponytail, her panda flats and her cardigans, her bright colored lips and painted nails. She fought with him, for him, next to him. She never left. Never gave up. He was who he wanted to be when she was around. She could make his pain go away, his worries subside. She made him smile, really smile, like no one else really could.

He had been blind.

And stupid.

He moved towards the window and pulled himself through, situating himself next to her. They sat in a comfortable silence before Felicity's voice carried over to him.

"I didn't mean to say that."

He continued to stare out over the city.

"Yes you did. You didn't mean to say it out loud."

She smiled and bit her lip.

"Oliver Queen. Boy genius. He's got me all figured out."

He laughed slightly at that, shaking his head.

"Maybe not all of you. Not yet."

They met each other's eyes, smiling at each other, before she suggested it was time to head inside and eat that awaiting Chinese food. He helped her inside and tended to the take out as she sipped wine, watching him from the other side of the counter. They ate, and she was even able to get Oliver to tell her stories about Tommy. The hours passed and by three in the morning, the food was gone, along with all the ice cream in her fridge, four wine bottles sat at the bottom of the trash, and all the stories had been told. They found themselves on the couch, laughing about something terribly stupid Oliver did in his short time spent in college.

"You really are ridiculous Oliver Queen."

He smiled widely, laying his head back against the couch.

"I know. The pre-island Oliver would have driven you crazy."

Her eyebrows rose.

"More than post-island Oliver?"

He nodded.

"Even more."

They found themselves sitting in silence, Felicity itching to ask about his time on the island and Oliver still battling with his new found feelings for his quirky IT girl. He didn't know if he should make a move or just wait it out. Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned to face her.

"What are you thinking about?"

He stared at her. He wanted to tell her. Tell her she was what he was thinking about. But he didn't.

"Just thinking about Tommy. I guess I'll be doing that a lot from now on."

She nodded, taking his hand. His entire body tingled at her touch but he didn't show it.

"That's okay Oliver. Think about Tommy. There's nothing wrong with that."

He sighed.

"Thank you."

She smiled at him quizzically.

"What for?"

His eyes met hers.

"For everything."

"Well you are very welcome. And I think it's time for you to go home. Get some sleep."

He didn't want to get up, let alone leave, but when she stood and extended her hand, he took it and let her pull him up. He grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on as Felicity grabbed his keys. Just before they reached the door, he turned, looking down at her.

"Are we ever going to talk about it?"

She frowned.

"Talk about what?"

He motioned to her kitchen.

"What you had said before. About how I'm utterly oblivious to how you feel about me."

She blushed and Oliver smiled.

"Maybe. But not tonight. Goodnight Oliver."

He continued to smile as she moved around him, opening the door and stepping aside. He stepped out into the hall but turned, completely capturing her lips with his, taking her by surprise. He moved closer, their bodies pressed together. His hands found their way around her waist and her arms had come up, wrapping them around his neck. The kiss started out sweet, escalating quickly, becoming passionate. Felicity moaned slightly and Oliver mustered up all his willpower to pull away, even when he wanted nothing more than to come back inside and press his lips to every part of her body. They stared at each other, breathing heavily, and he smiled, pressing his lips to her forehead. He stepped away but could still feel her arms around him, the ghost of her touch still lingering.

"Goodnight Felicity."

He made a move to leave but stopped when Felicity spoke.

"Where are you going?"

He motioned to the elevator.

"Home. As requested."

She smiled, biting her lip, and moved towards him. She ran her hands up his chest, grabbing the front of his jacket, before standing on her toes and bringing her lips up to his again. They kissed, right there in the hallway, and Oliver couldn't remember why he was leaving. He couldn't even focus on anything but Felicity and her lips on his. He leaned into her and let himself be pulled back inside her apartment, the door closing softly behind them. Oliver held on tightly to Felicity as they made their way back inside. Their lips stayed pressed together and when she hit the back of the couch, he pulled away, snapping out of their little makeout session. He met her eyes and could see her lips were slightly swollen.

"We shouldn't Felicity –"

She shook her head.

"Stop Oliver. Just stop. Stop thinking. Just kiss me."

He stared into her eyes and saw everything he wanted. And he made his decision. His lips were back on hers in a second, his hands were gripping at her waist, and they spent their night in each other's arms, everything that had happened, the Undertaking and Tommy, even Malcolm, just a whisper of a nightmare long over.


End file.
